


Blue Ink

by aestethic



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, NO CAPES, this was a request so sorry if it sucks :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestethic/pseuds/aestethic
Summary: high school au where bruce and jonathan sit at the same table throughout the day (like they both take the same history class but bruce is first period and jonathan is last) and because it’s so fucking boring they doodle on the desks until one day they start writing messages to each other. and one time bruce shows up after school to ask the teacher a question and he catches jonathan writing and he’s like “oh fuck he’s c u t e”
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Bruce Wayne, Scarecrow/Batman, Selina Kyle & Bruce Wayne, background Selina Kyle/bridgett pike, bruce/jonathan, implied bridgett pike/selina kyle
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	Blue Ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alpacasandravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacasandravens/gifts).



> leave a comment if you enjoyed! they seriously mean the world to me :)

“Mr. Wayne? Mr. Wayne!” 

Bruce jolted in his seat. He had previously been weighing the pros and cons of jumping out the window and just making a run for it. Mr. McDunham had a knack for making history -an otherwise fine class- the most excruciating experience.

“Will you please answer the question on the board?”

“Oh um… valorization.” 

Mr. McDunham appeared to be slightly annoyed that Bruce didn’t trip over his own feet. Years of galas and fundraising events left Bruce with quite the skill for zoning out and still handling situations with grace.

After Bruce was sure Mr. McDunham had turned his focus on a different sorry son of a bitch, he started doodling absentmindedly. A couple of flowers, two potted plants, a lighthouse, and a rocket ship slowly filled the corners of his worksheet.

Out of nothing but boredom (and a little bit of teenage rebellion), Bruce turned his attention towards his desk. He simply wrote ‘hi’ in bubble letters. He considered adding more, but class ended soon, and Bruce liked to pack up early so he could leave as soon as possible.

Really he didn’t think anything would come of it.

* * *

When Bruce collapsed into his chair the next day, the only though hammering through his mind was “God, I need another cup of coffee.” Alfred had been cutting him off, because he knows how Bruce relies on espresso like a junkie relies on a pill.

Alfred was in the right of course. Still, Bruce could’ve used the extra boost.

After idly taking notes for a few minutes, Bruce decided that he had learned enough. He was about to start doodling again, when he noticed something he was sure wasn’t there the day prior. Underneath Bruce’s ‘hi,’ someone had written in blue ink ‘hey.’

Bruce smiled to himself. Nothing more than a quick twitch of his lips, but still, anyone who had been around Bruce for more than an hour could tell you that was a serious improvement.

‘this class fucking sucks,” Bruce wrote underneath the last message, because really, someone had to say it. 

Even though history is torture, Bruce was curious, and somewhat excited to see if he’d get a response.

* * *

‘you’re damn right bro.’ Bruce laughed. At least someone shares his anguish. 

‘i guess this makes us allies.’

Bruce sat back in his chair; he was starting to look forward to this.

* * *

‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend -aristotle or some other old guy.’

Bruce found himself laughing under his breath and fighting back a smile. Selina, his best friend, leaned over with genuine disbelief in her eyes.

“You good Bruce? What are you laughing at?”

“It’s nothing Selina. I’m just writing notes back and forth with this kid.”

“Who?” Selina questioned.

Bruce paused, “Well… I don’t actually know that.”

Selina’s eyes lit up. “What? You’re talking to some mystery guy and you haven’t told me yet?” Selina punched his shoulder playfully. It hurt more than it probably should have. 

“I can’t wait to tell Bridgie,” Selina said with a pleased look on her face, “you know she loves all that sappy shit.” Selina and Bridgett were probably the most in love couple Bruce had ever seen. Selina likes to claim she’s tough as nails, and god knows it’s true, but she had a soft spot for Bridgett. 

In fact, the only thing Selina loved as much as Bridgett was tormenting Bruce. 

“You know it’s not like that. I don’t even know the kid. I just write notes and they write back,” Bruce shrugged. Bruce downplayed the story to stop Selina from teasing him relentlessly, but this was the most interesting thing that’s ever happened in this class.

Which says a lot about history class.

“Bruce, Selina,” Mr. McDunham interjected. Both Bruce and Selina looked up to the imposing speaker. “Have you got something to share with the class? Or can we be spared your incessant, mindless, chatter.”

“Shut up, boomer,” Selina replied, with a very practiced eye roll.

Mr. McDunham went red in the face as everyone erupted into laughter. Bruce also found himself laughing for the second time today. 

Selina ended up getting two weeks of after school detention. 

Still worth it.

‘my friend just got detention for calling mr. mcdunham a boomer- icons only’

Bruce wished to himself, if only a little, that he could see their reaction. 

* * *

‘your friend is a hero. i’m in complete awe. that’s the shit legends are made of.’

Bruce smiled and agreed silently with the nameless, faceless stranger. 

‘she’s more like a god if i’m being honest.’ It was true, Selina had a certain way of making people worship her out of love or fear. And Bruce was pretty sure she could smite someone if she really wanted to.

Bruce liked to be on her good side.

* * *

“Bruce, just walk me there goddamnit. Bridgie’s been concerned about me skipping detention so often. I’m just gonna go once. Besides, the bitch is old, he probably doesn’t even remember my name,” Selina said while dragging Bruce along with her. 

The bell had just rung and the class was only at the end of the hall, but Bruce followed anyways. When they got there, kids were still pouring out the doors, more than happy to leave school. 

Bruce took a step in, and then turned back to Selina who was still in the doorframe, silently questioning if she was going to stay in detention after all. But something caught his eye. 

Well. Someone. 

A boy was sitting at the back of the class in Bruce’s usual seat. Floppy brown hair covered his face from sight as he scrawled on the desk.

Selina made the connection just as quickly and started hitting him in the arm again.

Seriously. Ow. This girl needs to learn her own strength.

The boy looked up at the sound of Bruce being pummeled by Selina. When Bruce and him caught eyes, a slight pink colored both of their cheeks. 

_ “He’s fucking cute _ ,” Bruce’s brain supplied unhelpfully. 

His eyes were  _ blue,  _ and his hair was  _ dark, _ and his smile was crooked, and his hair was messy and soft and  **_he’s fucking cute_ ** . 

Bruce and the boy both ducked their heads down at the same time, but Selina just kept looking between the two. Bruce could see the cogs turning in her head. 

Selina figured that maybe all the pair needed was a little push. 

Or a big one. 

Bruce stumbled slightly but managed to catch himself and avoid looking like a complete idiot in front of this  _ very fucking cute _ mystery boy. Bruce swallowed and decided that now was the time to be brave. 

He finally had a face to put to those messages but he still wanted a name.

And maybe a number.

“Hi,” Bruce said simply as he slipped into the seat next to the boy.

“Hey,” replied the boy.

“Are you the guy that leaves notes on my desk?” Bruce blurted out, almost instantly regretting it. 

“Yah… wait. Your desk?” the boy eyed him up and down and furrowed his brow. He did a little half smile that made Bruce feel fuzzy, and leaned back in his chair with his arms folded.

“First period history. That’s my desk. I wrote a note because I was bored but I kept getting responses. That was you?”

The boy smiled a little wider and nodded. “I have history last. Got stuck in detention so decided ‘why not write back to this anonymous pen pal.” His voice had a sarcastic lilt, but was still playful. 

“I’m Bruce,” Bruce said quickly, and because he didn’t know what else to do, stuck his hand out for a shake. He cringed internally because what kind of highschooler introduces themself with a handshake? 

The boy looked down at the hand and back to Bruce with a sly smile on his face, before finally taking it. 

“Jonathan,” he replied, giving Bruce’s hand a soft shake. 

_ Jonathan,  _ Bruce thought. He finally knew the name of his mystery messenger and it was Jonathan. Jonathan with the blue eyes and floppy hair and  _ soft  _ hands.

“Mr. Wayne!” a stern voice exclaimed. “What exactly are you doing here? This is detention. As far as I know you don’t have any, so you have no reason to be here.”

Bruce paused for a moment. He looked back at Jonathan, who quirked a smile at him and raised his eyebrows, asking a question silently. Bruce just smiled back, focusing on Jonathan’s defined features and mesmerizing eyes.

Bruce already knew what he had to do. The words were out of his mouth before he could even reconsider.   


“Shut up, boomer.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> writing a fic in one go and not editing is my brand and im sticking to it
> 
> bruce and jonathan don't write in caps because gay culture
> 
> come hang out with me on tumblr @she-loves-you


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